


Whirlwind Romance

by PinkAfroPuffs



Series: The Scorching Inquisitor (Side A) [3]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Mutual Pining, Orlais (Dragon Age), high speed stupidity, slow burn? nah
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2020-10-19 10:31:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20655746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkAfroPuffs/pseuds/PinkAfroPuffs
Summary: For Mamoru Lavellan, getting a lady to notice him is an easy feat; with his easy charms and disarming smile, getting a date has never been a spot of trouble for him- and neither has being honest about his intentions. Unfortunately, this means nothing to Lady Montilyet, who was not informed of such a thing.





	1. This Inquisitor, pining

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote these a long while ago and i'll probably edit them more over the next few weeks but. i hope you enjoy them!!!

There was nary a woman like Josephine Montilyet, and it was tough to grapple with it, especially when Mamoru was unsure of how to go about his advances. It had started in Haven; an offhand remark, a soft, yet pointed flirt, and….well.

_ Well _ …

Immediately after he’d allied with the mages, he caught her speaking to a dwarven merchant about lyrium sales; quick on the uptake and uber official, the two were done with their business before he’d even had lunch. Interested, he asked, “Having trouble?”

She didn’t even seem surprised by his presence; businesslike and poised as always, she gestured to him to follow her into her office. “Not as much as I expected. The Chantry is….against this, as always, but this time it may impact us moreso.”

He quirked a brow at her. “The Chantry  _ still _ has its hand over us?”

“Not in a traditional manner of speaking, my lord.” In a flourish, Josephine pulled up a couple of papers relevant to the conversation (at which point Mamoru drew back in surprise). He realized that her addition of “my lord” was so overly formal that it created a wall of space between them, nigh impenetrable from outside defenses. Especially his.

“Since we have allied with the mages,” he noted that her tone did not change to disapproval, unlike Cassandra, “we need lyrium to help them focus their magic. Now, the Chantry,” she pointed to the clause near the end, “has a monopoly on the lyrium trade. They aren’t altogether fans of what we’ve been doing, but because they’ve become so disjointed, we were able to set up something with a few dwarven merchants on the side.”

“And you did all of this...before I’d even gotten home?” He scanned the papers, shuffling through the official writing and taking in even the most miniscule of details. “By the Void, these are extremely thorough. Do they really need that much lyrium on the usual?”

“It is better to be thorough and over prepared than lax and underprepared.” She was trying to be impartial about what she thought of the Chantry, and as Mamoru knew she was Andrastian, he didn’t press further.

“I know. Still. Maybe this is good. It may not be good for us now, but...moving from the Chantry’s shadow is a good thing.”

“Agree and disagree,” she seemed to be thinking very hard about something, and before he could ask, she continued, “as the Chantry is common ground for some. The teachings of Andraste are so well known that even the most estranged of countries can find common ground on it.”

He gave her a look of suspicion. “Even with all of the garbage the Chantry is responsible for?” This included (but was not limited to) the Exalted Marches on his own people, the oppression of mages, and the Orlesian war that most Fereldens called “cruel”- that the Chantry had famously called, “Punishment from the Maker”.

She sort of smiled, a bit wry; he noted that she was a very learned woman, and seemed to know  _ exactly _ what he was talking about. “Even then. Of course, it only works if it’s simply used as a talking point- a base, if you will. Like I said before, common ground.”

He took a seat on the bench beside the door, contemplating her words. Certainly, it  _ felt _ like it should be simple, but to explain it in such a manner...he knew that he wouldn’t even have known where to start, even with those bare-bones foundations. “You’ve turned enemies into friends in such a simple manner, Josephine.” For extra measure, he added, “It must be hard to be so skillful and so lovely at once.”

She  _ had _ giggled there- a delightful sound, he thought, sweet and pretty like its owner- but then she’d said, “You flatter me, Inquisitor,” and turned away from him. “I have a bit of work to do, and I know you’re busy.”

A little flustered at how quickly she’d brushed him off, he stood, suddenly feeling a tiny bit silly. “Right, yes. I’ll leave you to it.” He nodded a little bit, brushing his hair behind one of his long ears. “And...please call me Mamoru. If you can.”

* * *

Skyhold was a beautiful place, seemingly the stuff of miracles, but as often as he found himself in the library, Mamoru often lingered around the door to Josephine’s office- a new, beautiful space outfitted with even a fireplace- nervous about whether or not he would be overstepping his bounds just to talk to her.

Inevitably, he sucked in a deep breath, steeling himself to find enough courage to be less of a fool. Why should he be afraid, anyway? It was on the way to the war room, after all, and….! Well! He had to talk to his advisers once in a while, and if he saw one of them earlier than the rest, well! So be it!

“Ambassador Montilyet?” He peeked into her study, eyes bouncing around the space until they settled on Josephine, her eyebrows furrowed as she worked on another piece of parchment. She didn’t seem to hear him at first, what with the scout addressing her as he entered, though he did hear a part of their conversation.

“Ambassador, we can’t...well, the bees are sort of...lodged in Messere’s uh. Backside.” The scout, whose hands were behind his back, was obviously having a hard time delivering the news. 

“Well, he shouldn’t have attacked us! The Inquisitor wouldn’t have had to throw a jar of bees at him to get him to move out of the way.” She snapped, though she sighed. “I’m sorry. Please tell Leliana that I need something to work with for him. After an attack, no matter how reasonable we are, he is….difficult to negotiate with, at best.”

“Right away, Ambassador.”

Mamoru watched the poor man scurry out as Josephine sank back into her chair. Usually she was very calm about these sorts of things, but her posture betrayed her. Her hands pushed against her forehead, a stray lock of hair slipping from its careful styling. After a beat, sure she didn’t know he was there, he said, “Rough day?”

She jumped a little bit, recoiling enough to miss knocking her coffee mug off of her desk. “Inquisitor-”

Mamoru held up his hands, trying very hard not to laugh, for fear of it giving her the wrong impression. “Don’t get up. I just wanted to see how you were doin’ today. You seem...tired.”

A sigh escaped her. Carefully, she swept the renegade curl back behind her ear. “You must excuse me. After the fall of Haven we…” She seemed too tired to put it into words, so Mamoru shook his head.

“It must have been a mixed reception. I know some of’em think I’m immortal now, and the people we lost...” His eyes roamed the room. “You don’t have t’ explain. ”

She seemed relieved at this, though she did clear her throat, all business. “Well, besides that. What can I do for you, Inquisitor?”

This time he did smile. “Well, if you’re up for it, I was hoping for a relaxing walk. Emphasis on relaxing.”  
“Oh, a tour around Skyhold? I can get the steward for you?” She didn’t even flinch- and from her tone, cheerful but clearly misunderstanding something, like she hadn’t meant to brush him off. But she had.

“No, no, not...with a steward.” Mamoru was no stranger to being thorough in his endeavors, and this was no exception. “I meant a walk with  _ you _ .”

“Oh.” Her eyes were a little wide when he said this, obviously surprised by the clarification. “Well I...I’m quite busy today.”

“A well-earned break? Both of us are quite busy.” He offered. “And I dunno. You could let off some  _ steam-”  _ He sort of smiled. “I’m told I’m a good listener, if I’m allowed.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to burden you, Inquisitor-” 

But she didn’t seem uncomfortable at the idea. Flustered, maybe. Still, “If it’s too much, don’t worry about it. I can walk on my own, and I don’t want to take up your time.”

“No,” she was already pushing away from her chair, brushing the dust off of her lap. “That...sounds nice, actually. Just...give me a moment to get my things, Inquisitor.”

“Mamoru,” he corrected her with a sweeping bow. “And burden me all you like.”

It was actually very nice to hear her complaining. He knew that she held it in, like a big balloon of hot air, and she didn’t need to tell him that she was the eldest in her family. He could smell it from a mile away.

“And would it  _ kill _ Sera to wear something other than the shirt with mustard on it?!” She cried, throwing her hands up. 

“It probably would,” he offered with a smile. “If that makes you feel better.”

“Very funny, Inquisitor,” the way her pretty lips pulled to one side made him lean on the banister, hoping she didn’t notice him admiring her smile. “Still, this was...liberating. I’m sorry for talking your ear off. I’m sure you have more important things to do-”

He chuckled a little bit, trying to keep his hands out of his hair. It made him feel more nervous than he already was, like he was comforting himself about something. “This  _ is _ the important thing to be doin’-” Then he caught himself, cheeks burning a little. “I’m- I mean I came to help you, and that’s important, and doing somethin’ else isn’t-” 

Oh, this was frustrating. Those fingers of his were grabbing at the curly, white ends at his roots already. “I care about your well being.”

Her eyebrows went up a little bit, so he hastily added, “A-and my other advisors, of course,” he coughed, and thought it was true, it was  _ definitely _ not in the same manner. A bit quieter, he said, “I enjoy hearing you talk.”

“That’s flattering of you.” Josephine smiled, playing with her hair just a little bit. He wondered if maybe she was flirting back. “Thank you for the walk, Inquisitor. It was definitely something I needed.”

Though he was sorry to see her go, relief washed over him when they parted, and he threw himself onto the bed in his room. His eyebrows pulled together as he rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling before he closed his eyes. Then he scrunched up his mouth and mimicked, “‘This is the important thing to be doin’,’” aloud.

The words lingered in the air, stinging and accusing him. “Are you fourteen or thirty? Dread Wolf guides me,” he pressed his palms to his eyes with a great hiss.

“Guide me to death, Falon’din. To the Beyond, to  _ sleep _ .” Then he rolled onto the floor with a thud, the rug rubbing against his face and muffling his frustrated screams. He wished the carpet would swallow him whole.

* * *

He tried very much not to think about it when he was in the library the next day, fingers dancing across the shelves of knowledge to find the exact portal to forgetting his idiocy before Dorian said, “So, you and the Ambassador?”

The book fumbled in his hands and fell onto the floor, earning a flurry of common and elven swears in return. “I’m-”

“You don’t have to say anything. I know we aren’t on the... _ best _ terms, but. It looks like a right disaster to me,” Dorian thumbed through his own book at a safe enough distance from Mamoru’s wrath, though close enough to earn a tongue lashing. The Inquisitor thought the man was trying his luck.”I  _ could _ give you some advice-”

“The only reason why we aren’t on the best terms is because you gave me cause not to be,” he spat. “And I’ll hear no more about it. Unless it’s an apology.” He would not budge or change this stance and he didn’t see any reason why he should; Dorian was obviously a man who took certain things less seriously than others, and Mamoru, whose priorities were straight, thought that he needed to be a little more careful about what he said around elves- especially if they were powerful mages bearing the title of Inquisitor.

Besides. His not skinning Dorian alive  _ was _ kind.

“...I’ll think about it,” he said, and Mamoru bristled so hard he had to move, feet carrying him down the steps and towards Vivienne’s room, waving him off as he went. 

And so he found himself sitting on the stairs by Vivienne’s quarters, ears red from irritation and the memory of his own folly. 

“You should be kinder to Dorian, dear. He is much better as an ally than an enemy,” she didn’t even look up to notice he’d entered, despite her eyes being on the notes she was taking at her desk. Papers strewn in disorganized order sat at her feet and beside her bed, giving the space a more lived in quality that he appreciated on her part.

He didn’t ask how she’d known who he was, or if she’d heard them half-arguing. Instead he told her, “Not knockin’ his teeth out  _ is _ kind.”

“Is it?” The papers on her desk flipped over and she stood, flitting to another part of the room as if searching for something. “You and I seem to have different views on what constitutes as ‘kind’.”

“You would rather me beat him within an inch of his life, Lady Vivienne?” Amused, he pressed his book to his chest, watching as she searched under the blankets for something.

“I never said you should,” she replied, rummaging under the mattress until she found something so interesting it sparkled in the light of the open window. “But sometimes it is needed to show the proper meaning. Though I’m sure you know that better than I. Have your hands healed up alright?”

He tried not to smile, secretly pleased she’d heard about his courtyard brawl from three weeks before. “It only took about two days with our healing potions.”

“And the Ambassador didn’t say a word about it?”

Ears suddenly burning, he pressed his lips together in a thin line. “Why would she?”

For the first time since he’d walked in, Madame de Fer looked up at him, a bored sort of amusement playing in her eyes as she pressed her palms to the top her desk, somewhere between inspecting her own work and scoffing at him. “Inquisitor Lavellan, if you wish to be more discreet about your mooning over the Ambassador, you’ll have to do better than that.”

Oof, that stung, even from her. “...have I really been that transparent?”

“To everyone but her, my dear, so you needn’t fear her finding out,” she stifled a chuckle, but it was obvious that she thought it was funny. 

“You seem to be having a good time at my expense.”

“Not at all, Inquisitor,” she half-lied. “Though I do think you’re more capable than you think, my dear. Ambassador Montilyet is nothing to worry about.”

He wanted to grumble at her, but her advice was usually quite sound. “Well, if I  _ do _ lose my head, I might just spend some time with our Qunari friend instead. I hear it’s less hassle,” he said this very coolly, tapping the book on the stairs before he stood to his feet. 

“More, knowing your record.”

“What?”

She waved her hand in a careless manner, manicured fingernails gracefully tapping atop her desk after she did. “Nothing, Inquisitor. Remember to get some rest before you make any big decisions.”

* * *

His matter with Josephine only became clear when he went to see Leliana, who seemed to be overly entertained about the whole thing.

Really, he’d gone to the raven’s nest to talk about  _ her _ , not Josephine. He enjoyed visiting with people, and not everything should be about work, especially when they were all living in the same castle. And yet…! And yet somehow, Leliana greeted him with, “I see you are pursuing our ambassador.”

He stopped in his tracks. Truthfully, he was going to ask if she still sang, or if she was comfortable, but hearing that made him forget all about it, eyes wide and ears suddenly stiff in shock. When he found his wits, he crossed his arms over his chest. “Sort of.” Which was to say, Josephine didn’t seem to like him very much, so maybe he should just. Not do that.

“Sort of?” Leliana seemed equal parts amused and on edge about it, her chin propped up by one of her fists on the table. Her eyes searched him with interest for a while, like she didn’t know what to make of him, or if she was formulating a new opinion of him. “Meaning?”

“I...don’t think she likes me, so I was going to...stop. I didn’t want to make her…” A sigh escaped him. “Uncomfortable.”

Her eyebrows went up. “Oh,  _ I _ see. I should have known.” And then she did that thing with her lips, that playful...half smirk-laugh thing. Mamoru’s original crush on her felt like it was tugging at his insides again, though he cursed it. “It isn’t that she doesn’t  _ like _ you, Inquisitor. It’s that she’s…” She trailed off, trying not to laugh. “Innocent in love.”

Now  _ that _ was useful information. It struck him deliberately in his heart, and then his head, the first instinct of, “She doesn’t think I’m serious?” bursting from his mouth, before his brain went, “Oh,  _ shite _ !”

Unfortunately he did not mean to say either of these things aloud, so when they did break free of his mouth, he was immediately conscious of Leliana laughing at him. “Well. At least I know you are serious.” In a more serious tone, she added, “Because if you’re not, I warn you, Inquisitor. We may be friends, but…”

“If I were ever to hurt Josephine, I’d trust you to at  _ least _ cut out my tongue,” he agreed.

“I’m glad we have an understanding.” Her eyes twinkled. “Well, don’t let me keep you. You have an Ambassador to woo.”

He scoffed. “I came to visit with you, Leliana! You’re the one obsessed with wooing Josephine.”

Again, that twinkle. “How do you know I have not done so already?”

That was a very good point, actually. It also made him feel somewhat complicated. Maybe a little jealous, though he was unsure of  _ who _ he was more jealous of- Leliana or Josephine. Still, “You just said she was innocent in love.”

“Did I?” Leliana smiled. When he wrinkled his nose at her, she waved her hand. “Oh- you’re no fun! I’m just teasing you!”

“You tease quite harshly, is all I’m sayin’!”

She chuckled. “It seems someone else may be a bit innocent as well.”

That was enough to send him running. “Forget everything I said!” He thrust the basket of goodies he’d brought for her into her arms, ears burning so hot he thought he might explode. “Enjoy your treats by yourself!” He half-hollered, and then marched off, mumbling about how he shouldn’t have gotten them for her in the first place.

* * *

The mirror beside his bedroom seemed to be growing tired of his reflection, especially with the billionth hair fluff he’d done with his bangs. His skin looked clear (thank the gods for blessing him with that!) and he’d changed clothes three times before he tromped down to Josephine’s office to make himself clear. Simple. 

“Lady Josephine-” He started, though he never got to finish, seeing as he noticed the state of the place.

Her room was a mess. Papers were scattered across the space and someone was lying on the floor, dead. Atop the body was a letter- two?- and Josephine, looking poised and polished (but slightly worried) was discussing something with a scout.

“They’ve all been killed?” She asked. “But what could possibly be the problem? It’s not as though-” This was when she saw him- did she just brighten at his presence?- her shoulders heaving in relief. “Inquisitor! Oh, thank Andraste you’re here.”

She was glad to see him? Well...that might be...good. What with the...dead body and all. Who else are you going to call? A janitor? 

“I assume it has something to do with the body?” He half-teased. Really, this was kind of worrying to him, but she didn’t seem to put off by it. Or maybe it was that she was good at masking it.

“No….well, yes, sort of.” She pressed her hands together. “It seems...I may have run into a little trouble.”

A little, huh. In the calmest way possible, he whisper-shouted, “What kind of trouble warrants  _ this _ !”

“I was trying to restart my family’s ability to trade with Orlais again and...well.” She sort of gestured. “I’ll be able to figure out where the snag is soon, but...for now I only have this letter, inviting me to Val Royeaux to…’chat’.” Josephine sighed to herself, leaning back on her desk just slightly. “Leliana did a bit of checking for me, and it seems my papers have all been burned, and any documents that might help with the reinstatement are gone. Someone was very thorough about all of this, but we  _ do _ have a lead on some information.”

His lips pressed into a thin line, eyes dancing this way and that to find any outlying evidence on the body. None whatsoever. “Sort of worrying, I think. Asking to... _ chat _ . After obviously tryin’ to kill you.” He crossed his arms, his ears suddenly hot as he moved around to work off the excess energy. “You could be killed if you go by yourself, seein’ the temperment of...whoever this is.”

“Well...it...is the Orlesian way,” she shrugged, but worry creased in her eyes. “Actually, Inquisitor, I  _ do _ have something you could help me with.”

He wondered if that meant she knew he liked her. That she might be using him a  _ tiny _ bit- but probably not, knowing her. Besides, whether she liked him or not, he knew he could still be her friend if she wanted, maybe act as her shield and, well. His parents  _ had _ named him  _ Mamoru _ .

It was on the tip of his tongue, to recall what he’d gone there for in the first place, but for some reason it didn’t come up. Not even when he found himself in Val Royeaux, meeting a Comte and deciding whether he should actually speak or just be there as a bodyguard. Mute and somewhat confused at what was going on, he wondered exactly when he’d decided to do this instead of just telling Josephine that he liked her.

“...dear me.” He murmured. “I’m starting to think this isn’t simple at all.”

Josephine heard him, seeing as she turned to him, a curious wrinkle of her brow and a gentle smile on her lips. “Oh, these matters are  _ never _ as simple as they seem. But I’ll handle it.”

She didn’t know how right she was. “That’s...alright,” he chuckled good naturedly, shifting uncomfortably in his seat once more. Should he try to be poised or just strong? A knight or a prince?

“Let’s see how this goes.” He decided finally. It couldn’t go any worse than the way it was already looking. 


	2. The Princess and the Pauper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clearly, Mamoru is too much of a hick to understand most of what's going on. Clearly this is all rich people squabbling, and has nothing to do with him. But more than that, it has everything to do with Josephine...and Josephine has everything to do with him. What a kick in the pants.

Mamoru was wrong. Apparently it could get much worse than it already had.

First, the man who said he was Comte Boisvert was absolutely  _ not _ the Comte. Actually, he was not a noble at all, despite his flaming charisma; Josephine realized as soon as he spoke very calmly and neutrally about the situation that, “You’re the one who intercepted our scouts, aren’t you? Who murdered them and burned all the papers.”

It was here that he was reminded of the information he had that Josephine had been a bard before. He hadn’t believed it before now.

“A sound deliberation,” his tone was calm, the glass slowly lifting to his lips. “The House of Repose sends its regards.”

“You seemed very well informed,” she said, the lines around her eyes tightening. “Was there ever a comte?”

Mamoru sat forward, ready to jump across the table at him, when suddenly the assassin said, “Absolutely. The entire invitation was real...and so was his information, somehow. An end to be tied up later. But I bear no ill will, Lady Montilyet. The House of Repose deeply regrets this contract, but in Orlais, even an  _ assassin’s _ word is his bond.” He slid a paper over to her, so she could read it.

Funnily enough,  _ this _ angered Josephine the most. “‘The House of Repose is hereby sworn to eliminate anyone attempting to overturn the Montiliyets’ trading exile in Orlais’.” She gave Mamoru a half-bewildered, half-annoyed expression (which he returned in kind).

“You...seem upset, but not surprised,” that was kind of amusing, actually. “Is there something I don’t know?”

“The Du Paraquettes were my family’s rivals at one point. They chased us out of Orlais. But they haven’t been considered noble for sixty-nine years, so this contract-”  
“Shouldn’t it be null and void?” Mamoru agreed. 

“The Du Paraquettes are no longer noble...but the contract was signed  _ one-hundred-nine _ years ago. So it stands.”

Mamoru pressed his lips together. “I knew this meeting was too convenient.”

“This is...unacceptable.” She seemed to be running through the avenues of solution in her head, her eyebrows setting hard and scrunching in the middle. “I am not going to withdraw my family’s right to resume trade.”

“Then you are in danger of the House of Repose, my lady. No matter how…” the glitter of his eyes under the mask slid to Mamoru, “... _ impressive _ your allies may be, you will eventually succumb to us. Unless you can find some way to annul the contract, of course. Like I said, it’s just business. We thought it would be...polite, to inform you of such an extraordinary circumstance.”

“So this was...what?” The Inquisitor leaned forward in his chair. “Posturing?”

The assassin gestured a little with his hand, as though he partially agreed. “Something of the sort. It would be unseemly to continue on this contract and not let its victim know what is going on. As I said, this is an extraordinary circumstance, and we are sorry to be involved.”

“That’s fine and dandy for posturin’,” Mamoru found himself saying, scooting up in his chair just a tiny bit, in order to jump in front of Josephine if needed, “but who’s to stop me from killing  _ you _ right now? You’ve provoked my soldiers and you're threatening one of my adviser’s lives, after all.” It was here that Mamoru stood, fingers dancing at his side.

The “Comte” steeped his hands together. “I would rather there not be bloodshed. May I pass?”

He considered the outlying factors. The courtesy to address the concerns, and the insistence that he come with Josephine in the first place. A part of him wanted to thank him. “Where’s the Comte?” Mamoru tilted his head, blocking his way of exit.

“He is safe. In that cabinet over there, to be sure,” he gestured with his head to the armoire behind them, which Josephine didn’t even bother to look back at. The tension in her shoulders gave her the impression of either a snake ready to spring or a mouse retreating into its hole. He wasn’t sure if she was channelling the former or the latter, so he settled for a Josephine that was opposed to violence but  _ very much _ wanted to keep her life.

“Besides. Killing me won’t solve your problem- though it  _ is _ warranted. It is up to you, Lady Montilyet,” he leveled his gaze with Mamoru, “and your Inquisitor.”

He sucked in air through his nose, tossing his head back just slightly as a strand of his slicked-back white hair fell free of its careful styling. It was already clear where Josephine stood, so when he asked, “Well?” he was not surprised at the answer of a polite, “Thank you for informing me of my position. We’re rather not have any more bloodshed either.”

Mamoru shrugged. “You heard her.”

As soon as the assassin was gone, he crossed his arms over his chest. “Well! I thought I knew everything about Orlais, but I don’t! What a lovely gift that I i _ mmediately _ want to return!”

She sighed. “I’m...sorry for involving you in this, Inquisitor. This is..” She shook her head. “I know how to fix it. Please, come with me.”

* * *

“And that’s all we need to do.”

Mamoru blinked a couple of times. For sure, his eyes had glazed over, and he also knew that the papers in his hand meant nothing to him at this point in time. Instead of saying any of that, he just. Nodded.

The procedure had been overly complicated, though it made sense in hindsight. His brain took a few moments to catch up to the information, especially when she noticed his expression.

“I’ll walk you through it, I promise.” She assured him, and Mamoru shook his head.

“No..that’s not what I’m worried about. The first bit seems easy enough, trading information for information, but the Judge will want something.”

Josephine blinked at him. “You...were not lost at all?”

“It took a minute, but I got all of the important parts,” he remarked, scratching at the stark white hair near the back of his neck with the end of a dry quill. “And it’ll take me a little time to get to these places, even with expedited travelling. Are you sure we can’t do this in a simpler way? Like..I dunno. Settin’ the contract on fire?”

She stared at him for a very long time. “Well-”

“I was just about to raise that very idea.” When Leliana entered, she was in a slightly better mood than she had been at their last meeting- meaning, she didn’t look ready to tease or beat the hell out of the Inquisitor for standing near the Ambassador. “We need to be quick about this.”

“Leliana, I understand your concern,” she was obviously annoyed, “but I believe we must do this the  _ right _ way. To elevate the Du Paraquettes and have them annul the contract.” 

Both Spymaster and Inquisitor stared at Josephine as though she’d grown two heads. “...Josie-”

“I’m putting my foot down.” She snapped. “I want to do this the right way. Even if it takes a bit longer.”

“But Lady Josephine, this is about your life-” Mamoru started, then realized that he shouldn’t have said anything.

“Fine. If his lordship believes we should go with Leliana’s way, fine. But I will stick to the correct way, so that there are no further implications.” Stubborn and straitlaced, she dismissed them by quickly going back to her work.

Mamoru sighed a little bit. Truthfully, it would be  _ safer _ to do this Leliana’s way; the time it would take for the Inquisitor to persuade these people would afford assassins enough time to probably reach them and do Josephine in. Still-

He spared a glance at Leliana, eyebrows going up. She seemed to understand immediately that this was a losing battle, albeit a foolish battle to begin with. “It’s your life, so you pick the way we do this,” his air of reluctance was not lost on either of the other two parties, “so where is our sponsor?”

Foolish. A part of him nagged that it was not worth winning her favor, but another, a louder part, told him that whether he cared for her romantically or not, she was a capable adult who was more than able to make her own decisions. Why would he get in the way of that?

A bit pleased and good at hiding it, Josephine only said, “I’m glad you asked. I’ll make arrangements for you to meet her.”

* * *

“Ambassador, I’m going to be honest. I don’t get rich people.”

He said this while sitting on the bench in Josephine’s office, waving the papers they needed around rather carelessly. His other hand propped up his cheek, posture that of a man who was exasperated with running around, despite his willingness to do so. 

Josephine studied him for a little while before asking what he meant; the man was both charismatic and fierce enough to command armies but minor politics was where he drew the line? “What’s on your mind, my lord?”

She watched as he carefully set all of the papers onto her desk before sitting back down, wobbling as he went. “I don’t mind talkin’ to’em, despite hating it,” he admitted. “People are people, even when they’re…” His gaze drifted towards the window. “Nobles.”

The Ambassador refrained from saying that  _ she _ was a noble, as he had a very good point. The Princes in Antiva, for instance, were…..exhausting to say the least.

“What  _ I _ don’t get is why we have to jump through so many hoops to restore a bit of former glory. Farmers do decent and important work, despite not being overly rich anymore,” he seemed a tiny bit lost in thought. “And while I understand hierarchies and the like, I don’t understand how an Antivan Ambassador can be considered...poor?” He quirked a handsome eyebrow at her then, the sparkle of amusement dancing in his eyes. 

“For nobles it’s all about trade and connections,” she admitted. “My family is...alright. But nowhere near the former power we once were. I may have a reputation for myself, Inquisitor,” she pressed her lips together, “but my family no longer has that sort of status.”

The Inquisitor sort of nodded, contemplating it. “Like how I’m Inquisitor, and my clan is still essentially poor and powerless.” There was a barely noticeable edge to his tone, a bitterness he couldn’t quell creeping into his normally careful speech patterns. “That, I understand.”

In that sort of framing, it did sound sort of sad. “But now you have the means to protect them,” she reminded him. It was what she did with her own family, after all. Managing her siblings’ lives and the like.

“Is that what you do as well?” Amused, he sort of grinned at her. “I can tell you’re eldest. What’s your family like?”  
_This_ flustered her. “My family? Well...they’re…” It was hard to put them in a flattering light on the spot; though she loved them all dearly, they certainly tried her patience. Especially Yvette. 

He laughed. It sort of delighted her, actually, seeing as the Inquisitor always seemed to have a lot of energy. His laugh was a lot like that. “Family?”

“Yes,” she tried not to laugh too, with difficulty. “I love them dearly, but often they are...trying. They don’t go to their appointments or even their fittings on time and managing them is sometimes a greater task than working under you, my lord.”

He seemed thrown by something she’d said, his eyes going wide as he let out a short laugh. “Did you say manage? You  _ manage _ your siblings?”

Josephine nodded a couple of times. Realizing that even if he  _ had _ been Antivan, the Dalish might not know about what was required of an heir, she said, “As you well know, I’m the eldest. In Antiva, that means taking over the management of the estate…..including my younger siblings. It’s mostly to show that I can keep everything together and do the job my parents have before me.”

The Inquisitor was covering his mouth, some of his slicked back hair coming loose as redness spread across his fair cheeks and nose. “That...excuse me for sayin’ so, but that sounds damn near an impossible task.”

She let out a half relieved, half exasperated sigh. “You have  _ no _ idea.”

“I’ve a little. I’ve four baby brothers and a little sister and it’s smackdown time 24/7 in my house. Managing their lives sounds like…” A blank expression passed over his features, the white of his eyelashes fluttering like falling snow. “Like wrestling with five bears in varying sizes.”

The laugh that escaped her startled her so much she covered her mouth with one hand. “Oh- Excuse me-”

“No, it’s terribly funny. One of my brothers is taller than me now, too, so he thinks he can  _ always _ pick a fight with me!” He gestured wildly. “I’ve even a scar on my arm- Actually if you don’t mind, I could show you sometime. In theory, I mean.”

She knew this was another sign of his “courtly intrigue”; handsome and charming as he might be, he was still the Inquisitor. Nothing wrong with a little flirting now and again to keep things interesting. “Of course,” she smiled. “In theory.”

He seemed suddenly embarrassed about something; raking a hand through his hair so quickly it undid its careful styling almost completely, he asked, “S-So, what’s our next move? I can get started on it now. The faster we do this, the safer you’ll be, after all.”

“Of course,” she watched him carefully. It would be best not to ask.


	3. A Sordid Love Affair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen ruins everything.

“I don’t understand. Why were they forbidden from trading with your family?” 

Josephine had finally agreed to another walk- though it consisted of her mostly fretting over this and that. He didn’t mind. 

They stopped in the space near his room, just over the foyer, looking over the heads of the guests and visiting dignitaries he’d convinced her to blow off for an hour. After a beat or two, she said, “Nobody remembers.”

“So your life is bein’ threatened over...nothing special?” Mamoru very much enjoyed her company; when she wasn’t restraining herself around him, she was a delight- witty and endearing, polished and a little rough, all at once. He could see how she’d become friends with Leliana; the two seemed to have similar tastes in allies, and Josephine was enough sweet and tart to make him content to protect her with his life- or to sit back and watch her in her element, bold and in control. Still, this was...kind of odd. 

Besides that. She still hadn’t responded to any of his advances. At this point even a “no” would suffice.

“Not  _ nothing _ . It was some sort of love affair, I think. With a minor lord.” She leaned over the bannister to look over the foyer, her ankles crossing just slightly as she propped her chin up on her hand. “It was probably very romantic and passionate. A lot of Antivan culture is that way.”

He tried not to laugh. “Really? I thought you said  _ you _ were Antivan, and I’ve seen none of that.”

A tiny scoff escaped her, her expression incredulous as she turned to look at him. “I can be passionate! When the mood strikes me. And...when it is...practical…” She wasn’t  _ blushing _ per se, but it certainly felt like it to him. It made him break out into a cheeky grin. 

“I believe you,” he chuckled. “And I look forward to seein’ it. Though….maybe this isn’t the best situation for it.”

“I have to agree,” she sighed. “This has become a...trying time.”

He resisted the urge to pull her into a hug, or even reach over to touch her shoulder; somewhat frustrated with himself, he settled for scooting a little closer to her, so that their shoulders were almost touching. “I know.” His voice was softer than he intended it to be, a part of his hand brushing against the side of hers to hopefully convey the restrained,  _ absolute _ feeling it wasn’t proper to address.

The subtle lean on her end made the hair on the back of his neck stand up on end, her permission suddenly electric. “I just hope that….doing things the right way will fix this.” Her gaze turned to him again, his brain scrambling a little when her eyes set on him. “Do you think….maybe-”

Would it be wrong to brush his fingers against hers? Would that be too much? It wasn’t appropriate to just  _ say _ it right now- “I stand by what I said. It has to do with your life, so your choice in what we do is most important.” He affirmed. “Leliana has a point about timing, but...I’ll just protect you in the meantime.”

Before she could protest, he said, “W-With scouts and the like. I mean.” And then, foolishly, “When I’m not around.”

She seemed flustered at the idea, though she didn’t create a distance between them. “Your personal- I couldn’t ask that of you-”

“You aren’t. I’m offering it, and I won’t take no for an answer,” he continued, ignoring the way his ears burned, the air suddenly hot and sticky under his palms. She was close enough to  _ touch _ , to  _ properly _ touch, but that wouldn’t- 

It was out of line. Especially while she didn’t know what he knew. 

Her eyes flickered away from his face, and for a moment their elbows touched; the door behind them opened, and, in shock, they pulled away from one another, Mamoru with his hands suddenly stuffed in his armpits and Josephine straightening behind him.

Cullen (who didn’t look up from his papers to see them) started with the usual, “Inquisitor, if you have a moment-” and then his eyes flickered upwards to see them both standing there, slightly nervous and incredibly tense. “...have I...disturbed something?”

Now the Inquisitor’s cheeks were as hot as his ears. “M-Maybe?”

That wasn’t the right response. The right response was lying through his teeth with a standard, ‘No’. Why hadn’t he said that instead? Fool.

Josephine was the one who saved them both, what with her response of, “Is there something you need, Commander?”

“Actually I...yes. From the Inquisitor. But I was going to run these papers by you first, and someone said they spotted you over here-” Confused and a little put off, he sort of smiled. “Maybe this is just a stroke of luck, then.”

“Sure,” Mamoru agreed, letting out a careful breath of hot air. “Now what did you need me to see? Or to sign, I suppose.”

* * *

The view by the water in Val Royeaux was certainly more romantic when one’s assassination attempt had been thwarted; when Mamoru met with Josephine that day, she told him some things he’d already known, and others he couldn’t have imagined in his wildest dreams.

“I knew you used to be a bard but…” This talk of killing a former friend…! Imagining Josephine killing anyone felt far-fetched. “...and now you’re completely the opposite. Though I can see why,” he admitted. He was no fan of senseless murder himself; any fighting he did was in self defense, of himself and the Inquisition. Of the Dalish. Of elves.

“Forgive me for…” She trailed off, her gaze turned toward the water. “I don’t believe I thanked you properly for all of this, your lordship.”

“Mamoru,” he corrected her again, “and...you don’t have to. I’d do it again in a heartbeat for  _ you. _ ” 

Maybe that was too much. Creators, at this point he was damn near in love with the woman, despite how hopeless this whole thing felt. Innocent in love or no, he could feel his heart breaking into little pieces on the docks, falling into the water below to be eaten by the fishes at their leisure.

She  _ was _ surprised, though- delighted?- and her cheeks darkened just a little bit. “I...such talk. I’m….quite overcome.”

“Should I...stop?” He didn’t want her to feel uncomfortable but  _ this _ felt like the desired reaction and he wanted to go on. To regale her with tales of her beauty, her intelligence, her wit. 

“Oh, no,” she said at first, her tone so airy and sweet that Mamoru’s heart slammed against his ribcage so fast it might burst. “I-I mean, yes. I-I meant no, I don’t-” Slightly frustrated, she let out a short laugh. “Well, if you meant to draw a blush to my cheeks, you’ve  _ completely _ succeeded.”

He wanted to do more than that, but refrained from saying so, eyeing her with interest as her eyes danced away from him, suddenly nervous. 

“Let’s….return to Skyhold. Before anyone notices.”

On their way there, Mamoru was stopped by a familiar-looking courier who said nothing except, “Inquisitor Lavellan? This is for you. From a friend.”

He didn’t like the sound of that. Curious and somewhat suspicious, he opened the letter and read it very quickly to himself.

_ Be wary, Inquisitor. I would choose Josephine over you in a heartbeat. _

The next line only said, “ _ if the chocolates were a bribe, they were not enough.” _ The letter itself was unsigned. 

Mamoru took a very, very, deep breath. Surely Leliana knew him by now, that he wasn’t the type to toy with a person’s feelings..! A part of him was offended to even receive the letter. Another was relieved that Josephine had such a good friend to look out for her.

“What? What is it? You seem troubled.” Josephine noticed him stopped in the middle of the square, sighing over the letter he wouldn’t let her see, his gloved fingers carefully folding it before he put it in his pocket. 

“It was just somethin’ from Leliana,” he admitted. “About  _ us _ .”

She made a very fierce expression that Mamoru was unsure if he liked or not. “Oh, she is  _ impossible _ . Might we discuss this somewhere more private?”

* * *

“Leliana said I was  _ innocent _ in  _ love _ !?”

She was pacing around the room, her face scrunched up in a way that Mamoru was surprised to find very endearing, especially with her gesturing like that. 

“Something like that,” he admitted from his chair, slightly amused at this whole thing.

“I’m perfectly capable of understanding our association!” She nearly thundered. In a softer, reassuring tone, she said, “I never thought your intentions were overly romantic, Inquisitor, I assure you.”

Ah, there it was. In a tangible form he could do something about, deal with. “Really?” He scratched his cheek. “That’s disappointing. Would it’ve been better if I brought flowers instead? Or sang for you? I don’t usually cook for my partners til we’ve at least kissed, though-”

“What?!” A manicured hand came up to cover her mouth. “But….you do? I...I thought it was just...courtly intrigue-”

"Josephine, I know  _ nothin' _ about rich people,” Mamoru reminded her. "What would I know about courtly intrigue?"

The truth of that statement embarrassed her so thoroughly that she felt her cheeks flush. "Oh…” And then, “ _ Oh _ ." Her hands flew to her lips. "I'm...I've made a great mistake. I didn’t...want to  _ presume _ you harbored any tender feelings for me-”

His lip twitched to keep back his smile as he stood, hands on his hips. “You should’ve. Let me just say, this has been the  _ most _ confusin’ twelve weeks of my life. I was sort of waitin’ for more of a…’no’.”

“But,” she stammered. “We haven’t known each other for more than a few short months. How can you proclaim this...liking for me after a few short months? After such a brief time together?”

“Do you want me to be honest?” He knew she did, and he was prepared to give it his all for this, for her to know, especially after the  _ agony _ of getting here. If there was a chance, then, “Being with you makes me feel like I’m waiting for my first kiss again. All sweaty palms and...stumbly words.” He wet his lips. “I’m always honest. I try t’ be. But I’ve also never had  _ trouble _ with.  _ This _ . Before you. Trouble with…” He raked a hand through his hair, its waves fluffing around his fingers. “Wondering about my own feelings, if they’re  _ enough _ . But I’m...a romantic. Or so people tell me. And you deserve to be swept off of your feet, and I wanna give that to you.”

The blush rising from Josephine’s cheeks made him feel less alone in his nervousness; he hoped, after speaking of sweaty palms, that his own were dry, or at least a normal temperature, in case something happened. “I...would not object to a...closer relationship with you, my lord,” she was smiling, but trying very hard not too, flustered and excited but  _ calm _ . Yes. This was as it should be. “If...that sounds agreeable to you.”

“I can’t imagine anything I’d want more,” he admitted. “And...I wish you’d just call me Mamoru,” he chuckled. 

“I...suppose Leliana was right after all.” She murmured. Then, “Please don’t tell her I said that.”

He laughed softly. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Gods, they were so close now. When had their hands intertwined? Their noses so close that the distance meant they could-

“Inquisitor!” The door flew inward and they pulled away from one another again, the Lion of Ferelden stomping in, gleeful as he exclaimed, “I’ve done it! I’ve found a way to sabotage Samson’s armor!”

The Inquisitor only groaned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Truthfully, I want to write a lot more with them, but I've got a billion other fics with Mamoru and the Iron Bull that I'm thinking of posting soon...hmm. I'll think about it later.


End file.
